Star Trek: Residue
by CaptainSmithers
Summary: Dishonorably discharged from Starfleet, Ed Holden searched the galaxy for a new ship. Now Captain Holden, along with a loyal crew explores the unfamiliar territory of a disbanded Federation. When he begins to notice certain things happening throughout the Galaxy, he enlists the help of a friend to investigate, The investigation goes "where no one has gone before".
1. Chapter One: All Clear

6

"_Space. The Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. It's continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before..."_

_Based upon 'Star Trek', created by Gene Roddenberry. _

_**Chapter One: All Clear**_

Edward Holden made his way into the dark office, remembering the compound's once royal state. Much had changed since Captain Holden had last visited his self-assigned homeworld. He'd not been born on Ivor, nor had he spent his childhood there. Holden hadn't set foot on the planet until much later in life, when he'd arrived on a shuttle from Deep-Space Five, where the ex-Starfleet officer had served out the pitiful end of his career.

At the time, newly rebuilt Ivor had a gleaming , modern edge, a comforting contrast to Holden's true origin: the increasingly industrial Starfleet engine the planet Earth was becoming. Ivor's glory had since faded.

Mart's had not. The man stood in front of the sole window, the right half of his confident face revealed by a sliver of light as he peered through the barely open blinds. His concentration did not break. "Holden, welcome. It's been some time."

Holden nodded. As he approached the man, he did not feel as though he was in the presence of an old friend, but instead a cautious adversary. Mart's voice was low, steady, and calculating, his breathing measured, his focus unmoving. He turned around in a grandiose fashion, smiling, slightly at Holden as he poised himself behind his bare, metallic desk.

Holden was closer, now, and in the light reflecting off of the desk he could see that Mart was wearing a relic; a scarlet Starfleet dress uniform, adorned with proud pins and badges Holden had long ago forgotten the significance of. He examined Holden, squinting in the dimness of his office, as though trying to see him, through the fog of time, as he was the last time they met. "Captain Holden," he said, chuckling.

"Premier Marton," Holden replied, smiling warmly. He shook the hand of the most powerful man on Ivor, wondering how the crime lord weaseled his way into the position. Mart wondered the same about Holden. "You work here?"

"Officially, yes. This is the office of Premier Thom Marton. There's not a nicer place on all of Ivor." Mart smiled to himself, knowingly, with superiority.

Holden coughed. "A bit stuffy. isn't it? And dark?"

"I prefer _'inconspicuous'" _

Captain Holden laughed, nodding. "That proves that you're the right man for the job."

The Premier shifted his weight onto his elbow, leaning toward Holden across the desk. "What job would that be, Ed?"

"How's first officer sound?"

"Sounds nice. Official. Is Starfleet hiring again?"

"If they were, they wouldn't be scouting out candidates on Ivor."

"You have a point. So what is this about?"

"I need a first officer."

"To serve on the U.S.S Shuttlecraft?"

Holden expected ridicule from Mart. He reached for the communicator in his collar. "Two to beam up," He announced into it.

Within seconds the two men were standing in the transporter room of a Federation Starship. The gleaming white walls momentarily blinded them, having been beamed up from the dark room. A woman stood at the console, dressed in a pinstriped vest and pants. Beneath her vest she wore a skin-tight black shirt. Tall, young, with a satisfied expression across her face, she approached them.

"Thank you, Xandre, " Holden said, clutching the woman's shoulder kindly. "This is the Ivorian Premier, Thom Marton."

"Hello." Mart said, recovering from the shock of being transported into her presence. "It's been quite some since I've used a transporter."

"I can identify," Holden told him, "Xandre has only recently gotten the transporters online." He held Xandre again, "This is Xandre, first officer, chief engineer, and occasional helms-woman."

Xandre shook Mart's hand. "Nice to meet you, Premier."

"Ed was joking," Mart pointed out, "Call me Mart."

"That's fine, but on this ship, it's Captain Holden," Holden said, smiling.

"Who did you steal this from, _Captain_?" Mart joked.

Xandre answered for him. "That's a secret." She led the way out of the transporter room, into the hallway toward a turbolift.

"We'll go to the 6th level observation deck to go over some things. And have drinks, or course."

Captain Holden, along with his senior officers and Premier Marton, sat in smooth chairs around the long conference table of the observation deck. The table, positioned under an expansive window, provided the meeting party with a thoughtful view of the planet Ivor. Holden, at his obligatory place at the table's head, looked at each of his crew member's faces, considering them, pondering what he was about to say. Possesed, then, with an idealistic sense of adventure, he stood.

The group gathered on the once sleek Federation vessel did not very much resemble the ship's original crew. Each wore his own clothes, mostly shuttle flight suits, mechanic's tunics, or casual garb from far corners of the galaxy. Holden wore nothing to signify his position, save an expression that communicated vision and confidence. As he began to speak, he was reminded that his audience was composed of not just his crew, but his friends.

"Most of you know a majority of what I am about to say," he started, "Mart, this will be new information only to you."

Mart nodded as Holden focused on him. "I think you would find it helpful to use the viewscreen at your seat." He switched on the monitor.

Holden then typed something into the console at his own seat. The image of Ivor was then replaced with a data readout from a computer. The same readout was displayed on Mart's viewscreen.

"These figures represent," the Captain explained, "the flight paths of over eleven thousand interstellar vessels throughout Alpha Quadrant over the last fifteen years. Each of these," he said, pointing to the rows of data in the table, "is a starbase, space station, or other Federation checkpoint in Alpha Quadrant that is still operational and transmitting data."

A new image appeared. Holden paused as those assembled examined the map that was now being projected onto the wall. "This," he said, "is a graphic representation of the data we just saw. The flight paths are projected on a map of Alpha Quadrant. Under review, some patterns become apparent. You'll notice," he paused, zooming in on a particular portion of the map, "that the traffic along this route has reduced significantly in the observation period."

The map then shrunk, as the area around it was replaced by maps of the same sector of Alpha Quadrants. Each map was captioned by a stardate. "If we compare the traffic in this sector year by year, we see this dwindling effect quite clearly. Similarly, if we examine the entirety of Alpha Quadrant," the small maps were succeeded by maps of Alpha Quadrant, each with varying flight paths, "we see the localization of interstellar travel. Fifteen years ago," Holden enlarged the first map, "most of these ships were travelling along Federation routes," he pointed to well-defined groups of overlapping, fairly straight flight paths, "occasionally stopping at well known Federation colonies. As we progress," the maps began succeeding each other, in order, on a loop, "the ships begin to veer away from these traditional flight paths. Even further along, it becomes apparent that most ships have stopped using these routes altogether. What's clear now, starting about five years ago, is that these vessels are, with increasing rarity, traversing large distances."

A new map filled the screen now: Alpha quadrant, with pronounced, decentralized areas of traffic. "This is the combined traffic of the last five years in Alpha Quadrant. There are very clear localized regions of traffic here," he said, pointing to one of these regions, "and here. The ships very seldom leave these small groups of systems." He stopped, suddenly, and sat back down. He eyes the group, leaning forward.

"Thoughts?"


	2. Chapter Two: Sugar in the Fuel Lines

_**Chapter Two: Sugar in the Fuel Lines**_

"What are you suggesting, Ed, uh, Captain?"

"I've simply presented the data. Objectively."

"Hardly." Mart smiled.

Xandra, in the seat beside Marton's, stood, addressing him. "Captain Holden believes that, in the fallout of the Federation's collapse, systems that were once part of it are forming local united governments," she announced, rather bluntly.

Mart looked back at Holden. "Is that so?"

"Plainly? Yes. Xandra, unfortunately does not agree."  
"I've acknowledged the possibility that you're right," Xandra pointed out, "I just don't see what it matters to us."

The 2nd officer and helmsman, Balthus Wats, stood then. Balthus was slight, with long hair. He wore a loose black tunic, almost the same color as his hair. His eyes were, as usual unfocused, his mind somewhere else. He nodded in agreement, facing Mart.

"The Captain has not given adequate explanation as to why he, in essence, wants to poke about the remaining powers in the Galaxy," Balthus said in a grave, melancholy voice. "He seems to have a partiality toward chasing ghosts."

"I've known Holden for some time. What you say is, in my experience, true. Your Captain, from what I remember, sir, has a partiality toward being right as well," Mart said to the man across from him,

"Thank you. I am already aware of my crew's views on this. Mart, surely your interest has been piqued?"

Mart turned to Captain Holden again. "It does seem suspicious, yes. What is your planned course of action, Cap?"

"That's the spirit!" Holden smiled. He was working with someone he could level with. "We go out, talking with people like you, leaders of planets, explaining to them what's going on."  
Xandra interrupted him, "What are you afraid of, sir?"

Captain Holden frowned. "Something the Federation has not seen in a long time. I fear war, Xandra. I fear a Galaxy composed of feuding factions, with no one to mediate disputes."  
Balthus nodded. "A grim future, indeed, Captain."

"A near future as well, Balthus," The Captain said.

"You plan to mediate disputes, Holden?" Mart said suspiciously.

"I plan to keep them at bay,," Holden affirmed.

"Always the idealist," Xandra snickered, smiling affectionately.

"What do you say, Mart?" Holden pressed.

"It seems to me, Captain, that it's worth checking out." He turned to Xandra next to him, "I'd like to apologize, dear, for usurping."

Xandra looked toward Holden, confused. "I offered Mart the position of first officer," he ventured.

She nodded, understanding. "I see."

"Fourth in command then, is it Captain?" Balthus asked.

"Yes. Balthus. Although you'll keep your position at the helm, along with Xandra. Wehn," the man next to Balthus rose. He was tall, with a large face. His short hair followed his receding hairline around his asymmetrical ears. Wehn was dressed in a jumpsuit, outfitted with a skirt at the waist. His eyes seemed to bulge as he stared at the Captain with an innapropriate intensity. "you will be Chief Engineer. Xandra will help me with security."

"Aye, sir," Wehn barked too quickly.

"I would also like to take this opportunity," Holden continued, smiling as he watched his plan fall into place, "to offer Premier Marton the chance to bring a few members of his staff on Ivor onboard to strengthen some of the weak links in our crew."

"How many are we talking?" Mart inquired.

"Maybe, say, ten," Captain Holden suggested.

"Subject to review, of course," Xandra added.

"Of course," Holden agreed.

"I must beam back down, then. Arrangements will be made. I'd like to invite you and crew for drinks on Ivor, Captain."

"I'll join you," Holden announced, "I have business to take care of on Ivor. Xandra?"  
"I'll come too."

"I'd like to stay," Balthus mumbled.

"I recommend you get to know the engineering staff better," Holden said to Wehn, aware that he would decline anyway.

"Yes, sir."

"First, though, we need someone to operate the transporter."

"Right, Captain."

"We'll go then?" Mart suggested.

"We'll go," Xandra confirmed. She led them from the observation deck.

"I'd like to have the warp drive up and running on our return," Holden said to Wehn. who was standing at the transporter console.

"I'll do my best, Captain," he grumbled.

"Energize," Xandra commanded. The three began to dematerialize on the transporter platform.

They reappeared outside of The Ivorian Palace, where Mart lived and did business. The Premier briskly began walking toward the rustic looking building. "Much to get done, Captain," he said with haste, turning around slightly to make sure the other two were following him. They weren't.

"I'm afraid we won't be joining you. As I said, I have some things to take care of as well," Holden informed him.

Mart nodded "You'll lodge in the palace. I can have everything ready by morning."

"It sounds as though we have a plan," Holden agreed. He turned to Xandra. "Come, Xandra."

Xandra turned and followed Captain Holden along a walkway that led them through the well-kept yard around the Palace. Small trees bordered the building as well as the perimeter of the yard. As the pair reached the walkway's end, Holden halted to get his bearings.

"Where are we going?" Xandra asked him.

"A local bar I know," Holden replied, "I'm looking for someone."

"Who?" Xandra said as the Captain turned left and began walking again, now away from the compound and into the city.

"An engineer," Holden said. He stopped again, and cleared his throat, preparing to make an announcement. "I fear," he said, stiffy, "that our gifted mechanics aboard the ship may not be able to fully restore warp capabilities. And, if they can, not for very long. I think I know someone who may be more adept at long-term fixes."

"So that's really why you came to Ivor?" she asked, "Mart was just an added bonus?"

"No," he said pointedly, as the reached the end of another block. He turned again. "I just need to start my search quite soon, if we are to stay on schedule."  
"Right," Xandra agreed, skeptically.

They came to a grey building, a grey building that seemed to be a shade greyer than all of the other grey buildings dimming the nearby sun. "Here," Holden gestured, and began approaching the building's unmarked front door.

Holden pulled open the door and was met by an expected brightness. The room was lit with white fluorescent lights, coming in a variety of sizes and mounted everywhere in which one could fit. They occupied all available ceiling space, were conspicuously planted beneath counters and tables, and even nestled in the molding along the floor.

Assisting the lights in their endeavor to outshine the nearest star, every surface in the bar shone gleaming and metallic. One could see his reflection in the bar, walls, tables, ceiling and floor if the glare did not copy itself onto each surface infinitely. Each patron shone in his own stage light, was his own star with a unique getup and tinted glasses, goggles, or a visor.

They entered the room; Holden blindly leading, Xandra blindly following. The metal floor clanged with each step. The two lost sight of their way out as the door shut behind them, throwing a new beam of light in their direction. Holden tried his best to orient himself toward the flare that seemed to be the bar, and approached it.

As Holden leaned against the cool metal, a shadow appeared from nowhere directly in front of him, behind the bar. "Two waters, please." Holden said to the bartender.

"Water?" Xandra whispered. Holden, with a heightened sense of hearing, managed to hear her.

"My vision and judgement are hazy enough as it is," Holden grumbled, feeling for a stool behind him. He hoisted himself onto it, and then attempted to guide Xandra to her own.

Holden could not see the glasses the man placed onto the bar, but managed to deduce their location based upon the their sound. He passed one to the left, where he seemed to remember Xandra was located, and then sipped his own.

"The plan," he said to her, whispering himself, "is simple. Ask everyone in here about Doctor Murray Conshada. Try to find me if you learn anything." Holden could not tell if Xandra made any response as he watched her turn away to speak to the man next to her.

Mart shuffled through papers in his dark office as the men arrived. The six members of his personal guard service did not request permission, did not wait at the door, but made their way swiftly to their boss.

He handed each man a folder, and each man left without a word. They were then replaced by a short, balding, thin man. The deputy Premier of Ivor entered, and Mart explained to him precisely what was to be done in his absence, as well as upon his return.


End file.
